


Initiation

by maaaaa



Category: The Sentinel (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:08:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23615743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maaaaa/pseuds/maaaaa
Kudos: 7





	Initiation

Razzing H about his latest first date fiasco had just about frizzled itself out and the conversation was headed smack-dab in the direction of let’s see who can top that.

Snorfling into their beers, the gang was taking turns regaling each other about spilled drinks on pink chiffon, idiotically wrong movie choices, arriving late, leaving late, not showing up at all, foot-in-mouth conversations, irate fathers, and just about every ‘you name it I did it’ in the way of botched first impressions.

Blair twitched a bit as he fiddled with his half empty glass. Any minute now a challenge to throw his worst-case scenario into the fray would be tossed his way. He pushed crushed peanut shells around in circles on the bar top with his fingertip as he tried not to let his mind drift back…

~*~*~

Sixteen-year-old Blair Sandburg couldn’t believe his luck. Melissa Parker had asked him out. She’d been so sweet and so apologetic about the short notice, but it was pledge week and she wanted oh so desperately to get into the most sought after sorority on campus, and that meant she needed a date for the semi-formal bash that was going to be held at the sorority house, and everything was so hectic what with classes starting and all the rush week activities and here it was less than two days before the party and she really didn’t know many people on campus yet and wouldn’t Blair be a dear and help out.

Of course he would. A guy’d have to be a complete idiot to say no to Melissa Parker. She was pretty, and sweet, and smart. And she was eighteen, almost nineteen. No hormonally challenged sixteen-year-old in his right mind would have said no.

Blair had never actually been on a date. His experience was of the platonic group hangout variety, nothing that encompassed having to impress a girl, unless making totally gross body noises counted. And Harmony Moonbeam Harper could beat him at that, no contest.

Blair dipped into his meager savings in order to come up with the money to purchase a corsage, and a tie, and cab fare, because the dorm Melissa lived in while waiting to get into the sorority was only eight blocks from the sorority house, but he couldn’t very well expect her to walk that distance in heels. He borrowed a sports coat from a buddy and hoped it wouldn’t clash too badly with the fancy dress Melissa would be wearing.

Arriving at the all-girl dorm on Saturday evening precisely on time, Blair waited patiently in the lobby, only marginally aware of the growing number of girls who drifted in a few at a time. Amidst their whispers and giggles, he straightened his tie and adjusted his glasses and tried not to crush the box that held the white orchid the lady at the florist’s shop had said would go perfectly with whatever color dress his date would be wearing.

And when Melissa stepped off the elevator and glided into the lobby, Blair nervously cleared his throat, and told her how lovely she looked. He handed her the corsage and helped her gently pry the lid off and breathed a sigh of relief as he looked at her strapless gown and made a note to go back to the florist’s shop and thank the lady for convincing him a wrist corsage was the way to go. Blair crooked his arm, and offered it to Melissa. She slid her arm through and their forearms nestled in a snug embrace. She smiled sweetly at Blair and let him escort her out to the waiting cab.

The ride to the sorority house passed in a haze of small talk, while the scent of Obsession filled Blair’s nose and the closeness of soft flesh reminded him of how little useful information Naomi had really told him about the birds and the bees during one of her many ask me anything mother-son talks.

Blair fumbled with the door handle a little when they got to the sorority house, but recovered quickly. He deftly helped Melissa ease out of the back seat, careful not to let her slip or snag her dress. They strolled up the walk, with her arm once again in his, and Blair’s heartbeat raced as he entered the totally unfamiliar territory of campus social structure.

The front hall was quiet, and dimly lit, and voices could be heard behind the closed double doors to their right. Blair opened the door and with a hand placed gently in the small of her back, ushered Melissa into the room.

Blair took a few steps, and found himself stranded as Melissa hurried across the room and into the waiting cluster of a dozen or more sniggering women, and none of them were dressed for a party.

His heart thudded low and hard in his chest as Blair quickly assessed the situation. A chalkboard stood in the corner of the room, with six or eight names printed across the top. Each name had a column drawn beneath it and all but one was filled with tally marks. As the women looked him up and down, they exchanged giggled comments and added slashes under Melissa’s name.

The color drained from his face and Blair felt on odd tingling sensation in the backs of his knees. He took several deep breaths, and blinked rapidly as he clenched and unclenched balled fists. He looked at Melissa, hurt and confused, and she smiled a non-smile at him. Blair wanted to sink through the floor, or turn and run, but his feet had somehow turned to concrete and remained cemented to the spot.

The realization he’d been part of an initiation cut through Blair in tiny cold slivers. With as much grace as he could muster, he willed his feet to move. He turned and walked slowly and deliberately out the door and into the night as Melissa celebrated her success with her new sisters.

~*~*~

Jim rested his forearms on the bar and casually leaned against it as he studied Blair with his senses. The kid was deep in thought, which the conversation hardly seemed to merit. His color was a bit off and his breathing odd, off-kilter. Jim was just about to give Blair an elbow nudge when Henri brought him out of his stupor with a hearty slap on the back.

Blair knocked his glass, causing the beer to slosh over the top and onto his hand. The guys spent a few minutes teasing him about it before badgering him for his bad first date contribution. Blair hemmed and hawed, trying to dodge the guys’ third degree.

When he finally capitulated, Jim tensed; waiting for the awful memory Blair had been mulling over to spill out. And he knew, just before Blair opened his mouth, that whatever story he was about to spew would be a monumental obfuscation.

The guys laughed and shoved Blair good-naturedly as he sputtered some nonsense about dating a girl named Naomi, and how he intermittently called her mom without realizing it.

As the snorts of laughter quieted down and the conversation slipped off to the Jags latest win, Jim reached over, placed his hand on the back of Blair’s neck and gave it a gentle squeeze.

Blair looked at Jim, started to say something, and then just shook his head. Jim’s hand slid down to Blair’s shoulder and then across to his upper arm. He tugged Blair closer, squished him against his side for a moment, and then ordered another round of beers.


End file.
